


The One With Ranger Hale

by haleofagoodtime



Series: Rookie Status [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Car Sex, Cock Slut Stiles Stilinski, Cock Tease, Creampie, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Edging, Fingering, M/M, NSFW, Oral Sex, Other Original Characters mentioned - Freeform, Public Sex, Ranger Derek Hale, Rookie Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Rough Sex, Sex at work, Sex on a Car, Sheriff Stilinski Mentioned - Freeform, Smut, Top Derek Hale, Werewolf Derek, slamming into surfaces, tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22157350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofagoodtime/pseuds/haleofagoodtime
Summary: When Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department hires someone new, Stiles wants nothing more than to put them in their place. Or to be put in his place.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Rookie Status [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592728
Comments: 4
Kudos: 364





	The One With Ranger Hale

The Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department was as active as Derek remembered it. There were various people at their desks, answering phones and frowning at emails. The receptionist had three active lines waiting for a response. The copy room had a few stragglers trying to get out of work, and the break room was locked with the shades drawn. It didn’t help block out the noise though.

Derek stopped outside the door.

One man grunted with a heavy, wet smack following. “You know I love it when you moan, but I need you to be quiet for me. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” another replied, voice much softer and sultrier than the other.

Someone sharply inhaled. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

The deeper voice hummed and the wet noise resumed in full force. _Sucking._ Derek was under no impression that it could have been anything else. Anyone in the entire department would catch a clue as to what was going on, but no one was in any rush to bust in and put a stop to it.

_Interesting._

Derek checked his watch. He didn’t need to meet with the Sheriff for a while. Arriving early had its perks, but he certainly wasn’t expected an audio show —

The older one grunted, voice breaking in several places while drowning in a series of gasps. He could hear the soft rustle of a zipper being pulled shut and shoes shuffling before he stepped slightly down the hall and pressed his phone to his ear to appear as though he had other things to be listening to.

_Although he’d rather be listening to more of —_

The door opened. A larger man exited. His hair was thinning in three different spots, though it was groomed terribly to disguise that fact. Whoever had told him it was a good idea was a liar. The man pulled at his utility belt then turned away from Derek and walked back to the front desk.

Derek put his phone away and stood in the now open door of the break room. The pungent smell of sex still filled the space right in front of the door. There was a small shelf there that had several awards, some of which were knocked over. Derek righted them.

A much smaller man, thin and lengthy but surprisingly built beneath his uniform, shuffled around at the counter, trying to wash his hands and tear off squares of paper towels at the same time.

Derek found himself staring at his backside intently, studying every aspect. The high curve of where his lower back arched into his ass; the few moles peeking from the collar of his shirt. Derek could imagine the way the man could easily bend over the counter and present himself and that perfectly round ass of his.

He cleared his throat to clear his mind. The other man stilled in his washing. His head tilted slightly, as though he was going to turn but thought against it.

Derek smirked. “Are you really into that?”

The water turned off. “What?”

He turned and appropriately dried his hands, turning to reveal his equally moled face and arms. Everything about him yelled _sharp_ and _could be dangerous_ but his eyes screamed _use me._

Derek shot his eyes over his shoulders to the deputy that had just left and now stationed himself in perfect distance to watch the other female deputies bend over for the water fountain.

“Daddy?” The man threw his trash over into the bin. He didn’t miss. “No. But it makes him fuck my throat harder.”

 _Christ._ The younger deputy walked closer, almost gliding seductively. Derek kept his eyes firm on his. “And you just—”

“And I just… what?”

The man stood impossibly close. Derek could count and map out the exact sparks in his golden eyes, see his own darkened reflection and the equally strained lust looking right back at him. He didn’t say anything. Couldn’t.

“That’s what I thought.” The man clicked his tongue. His eyes dropped low, then slowly dragged themselves back up. “See you around.”

The deputy left without another word, the heavy scent of arousal following him around like his own damn personal cloud. Derek carefully breathed in through his mouth and exhaled through his nose.

He just needed to get through the damn meeting with the Sheriff before doing anything about that _damn deputy._

Stiles gathered around with everyone else. The man from the break room was still fresh on his eyes. He’d recognized that look, that predatory look that usually left him high and dry. Something in him wanted the man to wait, to _watch,_ to earn his right to what Stiles could have to offer.

He sidled up beside Tessa, one of his favorite new K9 trainers. She gave him a all-too-knowing nod before bumping his shoulder with hers.

The Sheriff cleared his throat and the room instantly quieted.

“I know the last year has been tough to say the least.” The room rumbled softly with agreement. “But I know we’ll get through it. Ranger Hale has transferred here to give us his insight and services to protecting the community and maybe wrangling a few more Big Bads.”

The man from the break room, _Ranger Hale,_ stood to attention beside him. Stiles inhaled sharply as something hot sparked to life beneath his chest.

“I want all of you to treat him with the respect he deserves, you understand?”

“Yes, Sheriff,” the room echoed. Stiles mouthed it, but meant it.

“Hale, you’ll be in charge of our ground division, which also includes our newest recruits.”

Stiles froze and everything around him came to a complete stop. His eyes snapped up and immediately found Hale’s, as though he had been looking for him at the same time.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Everyone else, you’ve got work to do.”

He sent them off with his small little wave, shaking Hale’s hand before disappearing back into his office. Hale moved around the room by following one person after the next, shaking hands and trying to learn names that were going to be forgotten the moment the man got a second of peace and silence. The second that he was left alone for longer than minute, Stiles pulled him into the break room.

The break room was going to start to be their thing.

Stiles didn’t give the man the chance to _introduce himself_ or God forbid _shake his hand._ He pressed a hand to his chest and shoved him against the wall with relative ease. “You could’ve told me you were my boss.”

Hale smirked, his eyes full of a mischievous glint. Mischief was _Stiles’_ thing. Mischief and sex. “You would’ve still walked out that door, wouldn’t you?”

“You think you’re all high and mighty, don’t you? Mister Ranger with his _insights_ and _services.”_

“Is this how you speak to all your superiors?”

“Just the asshole-ish ones.”

Hale’s eyes dropped to the hand still on his chest, looking back up to the man with an eyebrow raised. _Gonna take that off?_

Stiles bared his teeth slightly, pressing his hand only the slightest bit further into the man’s chest before it was swallowed in the heat of the ranger’s much larger one. His hand was yanked, twisted, and forced into an angle that made him yelp. The room moved, positioning Stiles against the wall were Hale had stood and Hale know pressed hard into his back.

“Listen, I don’t care if you’re the Sheriff’s son or the son of the damn president. You need to learn your place.”

Stiles’ heart thundered with a small dose of fear and an overwhelming amount of arousal and lust. The pain was momentary and mixed in with the weird foreplay that Stiles had whipped up in the moment.

“Make me, Hale.”

The ranger pushed him harder, his cheek sitting flush on the wall. He found feel every dip and curve of the man’s body but still wanted to feel more of him. His breath was hot against his ear, sending shivers down his spine and straight to his dick.

“Finish your shift,” he ground out. “Then I’ll show you what I can make you do.”

Between one pant of breath and another, Hale was gone and Stiles slid against the wall to the floor. His cock gave a weak twitch, reminding him that all of that had actually happened. He cupped himself over his trouser and groaned.

_“Fuck.”_

He hated Hale, he’d decided. Absolutely _hated him._

Stiles returned to his desk with every intention of forgetting about Hale and the damn _bastard_ was sitting at the desk next to him. Close than Parrish, and Stiles thought that was enough distance for any other deputy to be from him. He didn’t look up when he passed, or so much as breathe in his direction as Stiles took his seat and tried to do work.

‘Tried’ was the key word. Every time a new browser would load, Stiles looked at him. Every new email, he’d turn to see if he’d so much as twitched. _Stiles couldn’t stop looking._ It was messing with his head, his thoughts, his _cock._

That was the only thing that got Hale to do anything other than work. Stiles would bite his lip and groan as he thought of something absolutely _debauched_ that involved him and _Ranger Hale_ in various compromising positions, and Hale would tense. A small tick would form on his jaw and Stiles _knew_ the man had purposely chose that spot, that distance to be able to be within reach of the rookie.

So, Stiles put on a little show. He remembered how they’d first met after his rather simple start to the morning shift and made the same little noises that got Deputy Danes in the mood too. A little mewl with a twist in his chair; a moan when he bent to pick something out of the trash; a sigh when he looked through each of his doors.

Eventually Hale left. He stood in the middle of Stiles trying to get in the right spot in his chair and never returned. It made something go cold and hard in the center of his chest.

No one had actually _rejected_ Stiles’ advances before. Correction: no one had ever been so _repulsed_ at Stiles’ advances before. Perhaps he’d been reading the signals wrong. Maybe Hale wanted to make him _dead._

Stiles made it through an entire double shift and then some, having watched his own father leave his shift on time for once, and waved to Tessa on his way out to his car. His cruiser was the easiest car to use, especially on the nights when he knew he had to get them serviced the next morning. He unlocked the car and the headlights flared to life.

The rookie got within reach of the handle when he was pressed against his car by a massive heat. A massive heat that he knew.

“Hale.”

The man didn’t let up from his firm position against his back. His hands stayed steady on the head of the car, framing both sides of Stiles’ shoulders. “You’re infuriating.”

“I’ve been told otherwi — _shit.”_

Hale’s hands were on him and bending him over the hood of his car without any trouble. Stiles liked to think that he was more than a twig, but damn did Hale make it seem so _good._ He had a flashback to the break room and his cock immediately hardened.

“You’re such a _tease.”_ The last word came out as a purr, rolling over Stiles’ ear and making him whine. Hale was there, pressing into him — pressing into his _ass._ Stiles pushed back for more and stopped with both of Hale’s hands digging into his waist.

He immediately knew that he wanted those fingers to bruise him, mark him up and leave him ghosting over their colors in the morning while he relived the event over and over and over again.

Hale pressed harder and Stiles could swear he could feel the distinct shape of the ranger’s cock from inside his pants.

 _“Then do something about it,”_ Stiles hissed back.

And that was all the encouragement Hale needed. One moment his trousers were on and the next they were at his ankles. His jockstrap left nothing to the imagination and left everything to the cold open air of the evening. It didn’t do anything to cool his ever-heating libido. Stiles was _burning_ , and Hale was only fueling him.

Stiles needed something, _anything_ on him, in him — it didn’t matter. He _needed._ One of Hale’s hands obliged, pushing his neck so that his face was pinned down against the hood of the car. He was starting to think that the ranger had a thing for pinning people to the first available surface.

The other hand was busy, he realized. Stiles listened, rather than strain himself to watch, as Hale opened something and a cool substance dripped over the globes of his ass and down his crack.

 _“Hale,”_ Stiles whined, urging the man to just _do it._ Fuck him. Finger him. Stick his nightstick in him and make him _scream._

Hale chose the second. Stiles gasped at the intrusion, immediately bowing and sinking to the feeling of his single digit splitting him open for the first time in a while. He edged in like Stiles was a virgin. Stiles snapped him out of that assumption by rolling his hips as much as possible to get him in as deep as he could go.

Stiles sighed as he got the hint, adding two fingers and stretching him, spreading him just a little wider. Then three. He absolutely hated that he was wearing his jockstrap now. He felt hot and constrained and unable to scratch an itch that should be so _easy — and Hale was not making it easy._

He’d plunge a little deeper, wait for Stiles to react, then wait. Edging him closer and closer to his own climax before taking it away from him. No matter the curses or imaginative nick-names, Hale kept him vibrating right there on the brink. Stiles was sure that there’d be nail scratches to explain when he went to the mechanics in the morning.

Hale curled one of his fingers and Stiles was _right there_ — and then he was empty. Horribly empty. He whined and bucked against the now heated hood of the car, but Hale kept him firm. A larger warmth prodded at his ready hole and Stiles was ready. _So ready. So readyreadyready._

“Shhh,” Hale ushered, teasing the head of his cock to dig just barely at his hole before catching and slipping to glide up the curve of his ass. Stiles wanted to just grab him, slam him down on the car, and take him right there. He growled something incoherent, something between a curse and a straight-up animalistic demand to _stick it in him already —_

 _“Fucking shit_ ,” Stiles exhaled, sighed, and moaned all at once.

The ranger was huge. Three fingers didn’t have anything on the real thing. There was just enough of a stretch to feel him, feel like he was being split wide open for his cock. He took every inch that he could — at Hale’s _incredible slow pace._ The man would grunt, hiss, growl at every slightest breath that Stiles would make and echo throughout his body somehow.

“So fucking _tight.”_

Stiles hitched, getting a little more of his cock inside. “It’s been a while.”

“How long?”

 _Too long,_ Stiles thought and tried to bend just right to see if he needed to adjust the angle — Hale kept him still. He whined at the loss of control and his (super slow) movements.

 _“How long?”_ he repeated with a little more bark to his demand. His hand on his hip moved to grope the globe of one of his cheeks, squeezing just enough for the pain to make him arch slightly.

“Two.”

“Weeks?” _Finally,_ Hale moved. Stiles groaned with another inch pushed into him. “ _Years?”_

The rookie swore and panted, gripping even harder to the grooves in the hood. He did look back this time, his eyes probably just as wild as his skin felt. Hale smirked, exhaling a low hum that could have been a purr.

“Let’s see how much your ass remembers how to take a beating.”

“Hale, what are you —” Derek’s hand smacked hard against his cheek and Stiles felt it all the way from his toes to the top of his head to the whole of his cock. _“Fuck!”_

 _This_ was what he was trying to get out of the ranger. Loss of control. Complete instinct. Hale was relentless, snapping his pelvis against Stiles to send the entire car shaking. He’d spank him hard and erratically, leaving his cheeks feeling raw and stripped beyond bare. Every hit made him gasp harder, yelp louder.

Hale had bent his knees, angling slightly upward while also angling Stiles and his cock jutted through him and made him see stars. Stiles screamed, arched and fell back on the hood of the car with a thump, his whole body shaking in intervals as his cock pumped his everlasting cum into his pouch.

He was worried. The boy had screamed and completely collapsed. He was picking up mixed signals of pain and pleasure and there wasn’t anything that he could determine to be the _one_ explanation.

“Stiles?”

Derek paused, pulling out his cock to see if the man was alright and a pale arm whipped out and stopped him from moving any further away. Stiles’ chest heaved, panting for breath that Derek had punched out of his _soul._ He glared at him from over his shoulder, wild and positively _electric._ His cock twitched from inside him.

“Don’t you dare leave,” he hissed.

Derek didn’t so much as move when the rookie messily grabbed as much of his shirt as he could and pulled him close, sinking his cock in where it had been. Deep inside. “Fuck me like you mean it, Hale. Like a starved animal if you have to.”

He smirked. “I can do that.”

He could _definitely_ do that. Without giving the rookie any time to take a steadying breath, Derek snapped his hips, pistoning back into his heat like it was _made for him._ Every little hitch and moan made Stiles’ entire body squeeze around him and make Derek want to complete ravage him. Conscious or not.

Maybe another time.

He moved his hands to grip both curves of his hips, hiking him up a little higher to get him just right to _rut_ and _breed._

Derek growled, pushing harder.

Stiles was mewling, mumbling nonsense and noises as he was lurched forward on the hood. His arms were splayed outwards, abandoned in their attempt to grab onto anything. Derek instead moved one of his arms to snake under him, pull his chest up so that he was lifted and hanging just slightly –

_“FUCK.”_

His entire body clenched around him and Derek lost it. His body seized, jerking slightly as his cock spurted rope after rope of cum into the depths of his heat. It seemed endless. He stood there, gyrating his hips to dig just a little bit deeper into the rookie to milk out every last drop.

He slowly removed himself, careful to keep the rookie slightly elevated to not lose anything. Derek simply tucked himself away, vowing to clean himself up later or in his car at the very least, and took the time to make sure Stiles was put together.

Meaning, his pants were back on and his belt tied securely around his waist. Derek spun him around for good measure, watching as the man’s body shuddered as the first wave of his cum spilled from his greedy hole.

“Have a good night, Deputy.”

Derek straightened his tie, letting his fingers linger on the rookie for just a moment longer before turning his heel and unlocking his own car to go home and think of different ways that he could have him.

Derek couldn’t help but to watch Stiles as he limped into work the next morning. He heard the man give soft pleasantries to those he passed. One of the other deputies, Tessa, as he’d recalled from his introductions, had simply given Stiles a look. One that he didn’t return.

She did look at him with the same look, but with the butt of her pen pressed to her lips like she knew everything that happened to an _extreme_ detail. He only gave her a small wink and tried to return to his work.

_Tried._

He could smell his cum and his sweat covering nearly every inch of the man. All of his senses were Priority One Focused on Stiles. The rookie grimaced when he took his seat, but there was a soft waft of contentment to his scent that made Derek want to bend him over his desk and make sure everyone knew who he belonged to.


End file.
